Compel Me
by abracadaver
Summary: Sam and Dean don't have the weight of the apocolypse on their backs, yellow eyes is dead and Dean never had to sell his soul. So then why the hell is Ruby around and why the hell can't Dean get her out of his head? BLONDE Ruby/Dean
1. Chapter 1

Dean stared at the ceiling, attempting to count every granule of plaster popcorn that was splattered above him. His hands rested on either side of him, he lay straight in the small twin bed, his posture was tense – twitchy even, and his eyebrows kept doing this furrowing as he thought and absent mindedly bit the inside of his lip. He then ran a hand through his hair fast as he sat up, making it, if possible – even more bed head-ish than it had seconds before. He then slumped against the headboard of the squeaky bed, crossing his arms as he did so and pursing his lips – he glared at the wall across from him.

_Ruby._

The bane of Dean's existence, the disgusting succubus black eyed demon bitch, whose only purpose as far as Dean knew was to steal his brother away from him with the seductive curves she so subtly drew attention to with her choice of clothing…

Dean was pissed, Ruby was in town of course and was no doubt with Sam right now, there was nothing he could do about this.

I mean, as far as I know there's no such thing as Skank repellant…I know, it's called a gun and I use it by unloading the entire fuckin magazine into the head of that cocky little bitch smirk she wears whenever she looks at me…bitch…cocky, manipulative, Skank, mother-fuckin black-eyed two faced bitch…

The slew of insults Dean had where endless and just pry for the course compared to the uncontrollable rage and hatred he felt whenever she walked through a door.

Sam and Dean had just finished up a case and had decided to kick back in town for a few days till they found another case, It was Sam's turn to get the take-out, so Dean had used the alone time to take a hot shower – which he soaked in till the water ran warm. He checked out some of the paper view XXX channels, but he'd already seen Casa Erotica 5 and there was only so much leather he could take, bondage wasn't really his thing.

So left to his thoughts he began to think of Ruby, she'd showed up halfway through the case with some "secret Intel" on the case, which as usual annoyed the shit outta Dean.

Because, one this was his and Sammy's case and two because she was a demon and of course she'd be privy to that type of fuckin information, she was one of the black eyed nazis. Plus her presence was annoying too, she always wanted to talk to Sam – her eyes where always on Sam and whenever she looked at Dean she was either pissed or being an arrogant son of bitch.

"_That was ass…it tasted like ass, was that ass?"_

"_It's called Witchcraft, short-bus."_

Dean groaned angrily at this memory as he stood up and walked the two steps to the television and flipped it on as he heard the impala approach outside, if he wasn't watching T.V Sam automatically would start playing twenty questions like the mother-frickin-hen he was and Dean was just not in the mood. Especially because the click of the boots outside his door didn't exactly sound like any pair of shoes Sam owned.

Sam walked in, two pizza boxes balancing on one arm and he used the other to pull the brown hood of his head. His crazy brown hair matted to his head and his nose pinkish he smiled at Dean. "Dinner's ready." Sam said with pride at the food he didn't just cook. Ruby stepped into the room seconds later closing the door behind her. At first she ignored Dean, who just stood still and stared at her as if willing her to disappear. After she placed down the two liters of coca-cola and the plastic cups, she then glanced up at Dean through the long blonde wisps of hair in her face.

"What?" she asked bluntly as she sat down at the small hotel table, flipping open the box and grabbing a slice of pizza, Dean's gaze narrowed.

"Sam," Dean was no longer sharing the smiling; Sam gulped and stared anxiously between Dean and Ruby.

"I ran into ruby on the way out of the Pizza shop and she had soda with her so we just decided to…you know," he looked away from his brother, whose expression was now livid, and then nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "I invited her to eat with us." Sam found his strength in his last few words and looked right into Dean's green eyes, daring him to make a scene.

He decided not to and ate silently as Sam and Ruby talked about various things of no importance.

For some strange reason Ruby was still hanging around after Sam went into the bathroom to take a shower. Dean was cleaning his guns on his bed, ruby sat comfortably on the one next to him. Her legs propped up on the bed, boots and jacket still on, she stared blindly into the screen illuminated across from her, once more ignoring Dean.

"Why are you still here?"

"Why are you still talking?" She responded fast, and glanced side-ways at him, lips parted slightly – ready to make another fast retort.

Dean clenched his jaw, and his grip on the gun tightened, attempting to control the impulse to unload his gun, as he'd previously imagined early, into her head.

Ruby glanced over at Dean again, his hand grasped tightly around the silver gun, she mock frowned at it and then smirked again as she looked to his face. He was no longer looking at her but at his gun, cleaning it angrily now. She studied his face for a moment, his lips where moving fast, talking under his breath maybe? She didn't care enough to attempt to hear or read his lips. His eyebrows were furrowed, she saw them like that so much she would be surprised if they weren't just stuck that way. And then she looked at the perfectly symmetrical nose and the field of freckles that dotted across it – that where only visible in certain light because they were so translucent against his tanned skin.

He glanced back up at her, she was removing her jacket, he looked back at his gun – if he didn't look at her he'd be less like to shoot her. He glanced again, she was slumped into the pillows behind her a bit and he eyes where beginning to droop.

_Do Demons sleep?_

Dean's eyes then fell to her chest, which moved up and down at a slow rhythmic pace, she was wearing a black shirt with a low cut collar, which framed her cleavage in black lace.

Dean's eyes began to do laps across her body and then back up to her full, pink lips and across her silky golden blonde hair…then he stopped.

"What the…" he clenched his jaw and stood up and turned away, a hand pressed against his hair – line as his eyes stared at the floor, moving quickly but seeing nothing.

_What am I thinking?_

She'd looked so normal and human, her face was relaxed as she rested and she was…she was…beautiful. As soon as Dean thought it his stomach twisted and his hand moved to it instantly grabbing at his lower abdomen, grimacing slightly at the sudden and unexplainably exciting sensation. He slowly sat back down on the bed, resting his elbows on his knees.

He was Dean Winchester he hated Ruby.

He heard the shower cut off in the other room, he then took a deep breath and glanced back.

She was awake…and flipping through the channels with an antique remote, she saw his looking and the turned to him, "What?" her voice dull. She narrowed eyes, scowling and then turned back to the television. Dean turned back around, sighing out of relief or disappointment…he didn't particularly want to know which it was.

Sam walked out of the bathroom; Dean stood up immediately and walked to it, grabbing a green towel off the floor.

"I thought you already took a shower?" Sam turned around, watching Dean go inside, rubbing his head with his towel as he waited for his brother's response. Dean didn't turn to him but simply said, "Nope. Too much porn so little time, I didn't have time earlier."

And then he closed the door.

Sam just shrugged and did that little thing he did with the side of his mouth and then turned back around and started talking to Ruby.

Dean stood with his back against the door, jaw clinched – he needed a shower to clear his head.

Dean Winchester was not attracted the black-eyed witch Skank, no. no. No. no. No.


	2. Chapter 2

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry it's been a while I've been having a Writer's Block and that's also why BURN IN HELL hasn't been updated in about two weeks. Sorry! Feedback is always appreciated and I make a point to always respond. Hope you like this chapter! NOWWAYNESVILLE, OHIO

"How many shells do you have left?" Sam yelled from somewhere within the cloud of dust. Dean coughed into his jacket sleeve and squinted his eyes, "Three, Sam where are you?" he was attempting to stay calm but he couldn't see his brother and the skin walker was in fact NOT a skin walker but something else.

"Here!" Sam yelled back.

Frustrated, Dean used his free arm to feel out the area in front of him, trying to hit some form – and hoping to god it would be Sam.

"SAM?" Dean could hear the movement but the basement they were in echoed so he couldn't place the origin of the sound and he still couldn't see.

Dean was about to yell again when a hand slammed down onto his shoulder, clapping him on the back – he inhaled quickly which coughing and wheezing then quickly followed because he had sucked in about a quarter of the dust.

"Hey! Dean you alright?" Sam knelt down next to Dean who was on his knees coughing.

"Yeah-" he said between coughs, he pushed his self back up and turned to Sam, still trying to concur the coughing fit. Sam's face was tense, motherly, his eyebrows pressed almost together and his mouth pursed into a small line, frowning slightly as he looked Dean over.

"You okay, man?"

"Dude, you ask me that one more time I'll give you somethin to really worry about." Dean shrugged Sam's hand off his shoulder and smirked, "So how are we gunna kill this son of a bitch, Sammy?"

"It's Sam." Sam said quickly before continuing, "Well it's obviously not a skin walker or any sort of shape shifting – or even a Demon to be honest."

"Which leaves just two possibilities…" Dean finished. Sam nodded curtly. The dust was starting to clear and Dean found himself starring at his shotgun across the room.

"Three guesses what won't help us," Dean's eyebrows popped up in annoyance.

"Yeah, the guns are going to be useless." Sam said, more as an after thought than a response to his brother – who hadn't heard Sam because he was already walking around the room looking for an improvised weapon now.

"So," Sam said out loud as he stood in the middle of the room – it was quiet now, which was never a good thing. Sam was unconsciously starring at the ceiling as he waited for Dean to find something to defend them with. "It's either a spirit or a revenant."

"The difference, Einstein?"

Sam tensed his jaw in annoyance and huffed at Dean's ignorance of a job he'd been doing longer than Sam. "Well," Sam began in his Stanford college know it voice, that annoyed Dean to no end. "A Revenant is really just another word for a ghost, Dean." Dean sauntered back over to Sam with two iron bars in his hands, once eyebrow cocked and a smirk playing across his lips. "Really?" he said with sarcasm.

"Yeah." Sam deadpanned, his glare steady at Dean.

"Yeah well sounds like someone left you out of the loop Frodo, cause a revenant is more than that."

Sam's eyes narrowed as he grabbed one of the bars from Dean's hand. "Excuse me?"

"It could also be a corpse, doesn't have to be a ghost." Dean had leaned in and presented this statement in such a way to make Sam feel ridiculously inferior.

"Well if you'd let me get to that I would have-"

"Yeah, sure Sparky."

Dean walked over to the opposite wall.

The room Sam and Dean were currently in was a basement of a condemned house, that they had previously thought held if not a nest but at least one skin walker. Of course they were wrong, miss information and all that, it was most likely a ghost.

The room was sparsely furnished – probably due to the fact that no one had lived in it for almost thirty years. The floor was part dirt and concrete and the walls were brick, the basement they were in was for the most part – empty.

"What are you doing?" Sam was still standing in the middle of the room, one eye creased in question as he watched his brother tap on the wall across from him and hold his ear to it.

"Well," Dean said as he continued his wall tapping. "If it really is a ghost, it means the body's probably here and since most of the floor is concrete – I can't check there but…" he stopped knocking. He pulled up the iron bar and glanced at it approvingly and then smashed it into the wall in front of him.

Sam jumped a little and held his arms up to his face. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Sam freaked, slightly.

"Sam," Dean turned to him slightly exasperated. "I'm checking the wall for a body." He said this as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world to say, which granted in the Winchester world it probably, was. But Sam hadn't followed Dean's train of thought so he was currently confused at how Dean went from point A all the way to point D.

"Yahtzee!" Dean's cocky grin curved into his face, Sam walked over and peered into the hole in the wall – a mummified body.

"Hey, You think she was hot back in the day?"

Sam looked back at Dean, frowning. Dean chuckled out loud and then pulled out the bottle of accelerant and his lighter.

**2 HOURS LATER – BENTINO'S PIZZA**

Dean grabbed his ninth slice of his meat lover's pizza, shoving half of it into his mouth and sucking down a beer in accordance. Sam sat across from him, poking at his Chicken Alfredo pasta, as he looked at him laptop to the right of him.

Dean usually didn't talk to Sam after a case, all he wanted to do was to get some good food and maybe pick up a decent girl to spend the night with afterwards. So when Sam chicken picked at his pasta while he surfed the web for a new case Dean didn't complain, because this was just how Sam was and Dean was okay with it.

To be honest he and Sam had been tense over the past week since the night Ruby had come back to their motel room for pizza. Dean had been snappy the next morning and would argue with Sam over almost anything, so they both were a little uncomfortable with each other's company since then. Sam knew of Dean's disapproval for Ruby and Dean knew about Sam's stubborn tendency to basically not give a shit that Dean didn't like her. So, like the case they'd just closed – it had been spent with a lot of pissy banter and one-upping.

Dean was starring at the waitress across the room; she was glancing back at him every minute or so – giving him a frisky smirk after she would sashay across the restaurant, giving a nice view of her ass. Dean had his head titled slightly, a mischievous smirk played across his lips as he watched her move, her movements purposeful all for Dean's own entertainment – something he wanted to become a private show later.

"So," Sam broke the silence and Dean's concentration, looking back at Sam as he closed the laptop. "How'd you know to look in the wall?"

Dean snorted and finished his beer. "I'm a professional Sam, I know things."

Sam stared at him for one long moment, clearly not impressed or persuaded.

"No, really."

Dean sighed and looked away at Sam, back at the waitress…she was wearing a low cut blouse, Dean licked his lips as he eye raped her.

"Dean."

Dean looked back at his brother then sighed. "You know that movie we watched the other night?"

Sam cocked his head to the side and frowned slightly, "No" he huffed.

"The one with Kevin Bacon and he was seeing ghosts and the chick was like killed and stuffed into the basement wall under the chimney?"

"Oh, yeah. _Stir of Echoes_."

"Yeah, well…yeah that's it."

Sam starred blankly. "Excuse me?"

Dean ignored him and starred back at the girl, she was a compact little thing – with curves in all the right places, dark tanned skin, and brown almost black hair.

"So your telling me that if it wasn't for Kevin Bacon you would have never cracked this case?"

"Well he is a good actor…on occasion."

Sam leaned back into his seat and stared at his brother in disbelief, he then exhaled loudly and laughed, his brother sure was somethin.

Sam was in the other room in the restaurant, Dean had followed the waitress to the adjoining room, which was a bar, and he spotted her towards the back.

He had made his way over to the waitress and was now leaning against a doorway as he spoke to her, using all the lines in the book and was doing pretty good, until…

"Well, You're a regular ol Casanova huh, Dean?"

He was in mid sentence with the girl and he just stopped, she looked around him and then back at Dean. Who's face was no longer flirty and friendly, she just bit her lip and then turned away from him and went into the kitchen.

_All my hard work for noth'in…_

Dean turned around; half frowning half smiling it was more of a cocky contented look he gave only to her.

"Ruby" he said with faux-gusto.

"Dean" She crossed her arms and smirked up at him.

"I have a job for you and your brother."

"Yeah? Well cram it with walnut you ugly ass bitch, cause I ain't got any interest in what you got to say." He started to turn away and then stopped at her next comment.

"That's a weird thing to say, since you can't stop starring at my ass normally."

"Did you say something, bitch?" Dean turned back to her, stepping forward and invaded her personal space, head tilted to the side as his face was inched from her's as he looked down at her.

Her smile just stretched wider, and she brushed a strand of blonde hair from her face and then re-crossed her arms and shifting her wait to the opposite foot.

"You heard me, you flaccid disproportionate dick." Her tongue was quick.

"ohhh ah ha ah." He laughed obnoxiously. "Look Ruby, necrophilia isn't really my thing – so go rot elsewhere, you black-eyed Skank."

"Funny, cause last week you looked like you wanted me to jump your bones."

Dean and Ruby where inches from each other, there lips even closer and all Dean could focus on was how skin tight those leather pants where and that long golden blonde hair that was begging to be messed up. He licked his lips and narrowed his moss green eyes, he was so horny and considering that Ruby had just forfeited his intended lay for the evening he didn't feel so dirty for being turned on by a Demon – that and he was a little buzzed so he wasn't thinking as clearly. Ruby's gaze was unwavering and as hot as Dean felt right then he couldn't figure out why she was still so intensely starring at him, was she waiting for a response?

Dean's hair was slightly longer than usually and messed up in a sexy tousle, his father's old leather jacket was snug against his shoulders and the collar was popped up to where it tickled the edge of his jaw.

Ruby didn't feel much, she knew what she wanted in life and just took whatever appealed to her at the time. There wasn't love and regret and guilt; there were just raw feelings of lust and desire. And right now she wanted the arrogant, egotistical, self righteous, pretty boy – Dean Winchester.

She had impulses and he was so temptingly close….

Dean's focus was on her lips, those soft pink curves on her face – the place that all those little quick insults came from, flicked off her sinful tongue. He slowly moved his hand forward to her waist and stepped that small step forward closing the small gap between them.

He smelled of leather, dirt, old spice, and rain….


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey, shit for brains. Wake the fuck up," he jolted up, the sheets sliding off him as he did so. He was disoriented, blinking his green eyes a few times; he started to take in his surroundings. Room. Hotel room. Bed. He was in a bed. With all his clothes still on, what the fuck?

Dean ran a hand through his mess of blonde streaked brown hair, it was getting a bit long, and he made a mental note to get it buzzed.

"Hey," the feminine voice demanded, kicking the side of his bed again. He suddenly realized that he was not alone.

"Ruby?" his memory was still a bit fuzzy, last thing he remembered was…was…_did I sleep with Ruby last night?_

Dean could hear the sound of a shower faintly in the background and then the squeak as it turned off. Minutes later Sam walked out, already dressed, buttoning his shirt as he walked out.

"Whoa, hey Ruby." He smiled at her as he sat down and grabbed his boots and began to slip them on and lace them up.

"You got here fast." Sam said, more as an after thought than anything else. As he tightened the last boot, he stood up again. Then stopped and looked at Dean, cocking one eyebrow up quizzically. "Dude, are you going to sleep all day or get up?"

"What?" Dean's focus snapped back to reality.

"We got a case man, Ruby got us one in Missouri." Sam was pulling his jacket on now. Ruby was no longer standing next to Dean, but was pacing on the opposite wall in a sort of bored trance.

Dean shook his head and slowly got up, feeling uncomfortable from sleeping in jeans.

"Wow, I'm surprised you can walk." Sam said whilst laughing and shoving his duffel bag full of dirty clothes. "What?" Dean asked, frowning slightly and turning to Sam, who then turned back around to Dean, a playful smile on his face. "Dude, you were so wasted that by the time I'd finally gotten you back here you forgot you had a brother."

"What did I do?" Dean was standing over his duffel on the ground near Ruby now, pulling off his old shirt and replacing it with a clean white one.

"Hit on a bunch of girls mostly and fall a lot, your balance was for shit last night. I had to practically carry you inside." Sam pulled his duffel over his shoulder. "Well, I'm going to go load up the car and check us out. Be ready in about 15?"Sam didn't wait for a response as he let the door click slowly behind him.

Dean was zipping up his bag and standing up now, realizing that he wasn't alone, Ruby hadn't walked out with Sam. She was a few feet from him, leaning against the wall, staring at Dean in a passive aggressive way, arms crossed, and wearing her signature badass seductress style.

Dean slipped his feet into his boots, eyes still on Ruby, partly because he didn't trust her and also because he was still not sure what happened the night before. Had he been with Sam the whole time? What about when they were in the Italian restaurant, he had been talking to her…and he was, attracted to her…was he still?

He then let his eyes avert from her as he made his way to the door, but no sooner was his hand on the handle did he hear her less than a foot from him. He could feel her cold breathe on the back of his neck. He stood still, he closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, gulping, attempting to settle his nerves and hormones. He turned slowly opening his eyes…

She was gone; he glanced up and saw an air vent, a small piece of bright orange plastic rippled against the airflow.

Dean's shoulders slumped slightly, feeling stupid, the noise must've been the AC kicking on and the 'cold breathe' was obviously the AC.

_God dammit, what the hell is happening to me?_

Dean slammed the door behind him; he could slide into angry moods at an unnatural speed, usually his way of coping with feelings of inadequacy or awkwardness.

"Hey fuck-tard," Dean looked to his left. And there she way, leaning against a post under the motel rain coverings, arms crossed and a small smirk playing across her lips.

"What?" He asked roughly as he continued his way to the Impala, trying to stay pissed and not notice that fantastic rack in ratio to how slim she was.

He stopped when he felt a small pull at the back of his pants, like one of his belt loops was caught on something, he glanced back. She hadn't moved, but just out stretched an arm, and curled one finger through the back loop.

He couldn't talk.

She then gracefully pushed off the post with her shoulder, and took two steps towards him slowly, almost dreamlike how close she came to him.

He didn't realize it but his breathe was coming out in small fast bursts now, his eyebrows knitted together, green eyes intense – watching her every move.

She slowly leaned closer to him, and then he forgot to breathe…he unhooked her finger and let the hand rest above his ear, fingers lightly swept through the blondish brown mess. She was leaning against him now, and he'd dropped his duffel and let his hands rest on her waist, unconsciously pulling her closer to him, pressing her body firmly against his. He could feel the cold breathe on his lips, smiled like cinnamon.

There was the overwhelming feeling taking over him, an electric heat spreading through his whole body. Originating from his fingertips, as they brushed against uncovered skin.

He then forcefully, pressed his lips to hers and then –

"DEAN!" Dean jolted awake. "What what?" he blinked several times. Then looked up, Sam stood at the end of his bed, duffel over his shoulder and that mother hen look of disappointment. "Dean, get up. We have to check out in less then half an hour or pay for another night."

Dean groaned and flopped back onto his back, pouting slightly as he realized he'd been dreaming. And for a second he thought he couldn't actually remember last night, but then it came back as he woke up more. Nothing had happened, and the weird thing was he couldn't decide if he was relieved or disappointed. And at this new revelation, he had to consider if last night had been more than just the primal urge to get laid.


	4. Chapter 15

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **It's been a long time coming. Honestly, I've known the ending of this story for years now. It was a serious case of not knowing how to exactly write what I wanted. I knew the main pieces just not all the small intricate details that would tie up this story. I checked my email a few days ago, and had some updates on this story, new people commenting and adding it to their favorites list. So here we go one last plunge into the supernatural. This chapter is one of the last three I will be submitting to Burn in Hell. Enjoy.

**NOW**

They were all saying it, no matter how many times he flipped the channels. He could not avoid it. This was it. This was the end.

Finally, he switched the television off, tossing the remote onto the un-used motel bed as he walked back over to the other side of the room. "Anything new?" he asked the man closest to him as he sat back down in front of his computer. The man, or rather the Hunter was pining up and organizing articles in some effortless attempt at a pattern. After a few moments of silence he finally responded, "No," in his rough no-nonsense voice, that was Rufus for you. "Look Sam," Rufus said turning his back to the articles and facing Sam and really making eye contact for once in the weeks since they'd met up again. "You've got to understand. All this," he motioned to the articles pinned up on the wall behind him. "Bullshit and you know it." He gave him a stern look before he continued; Sam flexed his jaw and sat up straighter in his chair, narrowing his eyes as he listened to Rufus. "There is no damn pattern to be drawn from this, this isn't some run of the mill demon, it's the goddamn creator of demons." Sam cracked his neck and huffed, "What? So are you saying this is pointless?" "I'm saying, that this Lucifer and he's wearing Dean to the prom, and sittin' around playing hunter and researching ways to kick Lucifer out instead of killing him is not only a waste of our time, but it's going to get us and every goddamn person on this shit spot of a planet killed!" Rufus slammed a pile of articles down onto the desk and walked away saying, "I need a drink."

Sam sat in silence for a moment, flexing his jaw, his nostrils flared. Finally he got up and slammed his laptop shut, which he'd failed to use. He looked across the table at Bobby, who had grown so used to the bitchin lately he'd decided to just sit and stay out of it. It had started happening so much between Sam and Rufus or Sam and Ellen or Jo and Rufus that Bobby was over it.

It had been right over a month since Lucifer had hi-jacked Dean's body. Castiel had found Sam and taken him back to Bobby's, the first week was hell. Sam didn't move out of his room or off his bed, except to use the restroom. He didn't speak either. But on the Monday of the following week, Bobby had looked back from his desk and saw Sam descending the stairs. "Morin Sunshine." Sam just stood there for a moment, smirked slightly while slipping on his jacket and said, "Let's get this bastard."

Another week had gone by and Bobby's had gone from a one man's whiskey tavern of demonology to ground control for 'Fuck Lucifer', the bad kind of fuck. Ellen and Jo had moved in along with Rufus who'd Sam met up with on a recent hunt he'd taken to try a stay busy when the Intel was slow to come. They should have known though, that Lucifer would have kept tabs on all the Winchesters' colleagues and friends. Because not a few days after they all began to work together a fire was started at Bobby's house in an attempt to kill them all in one blow. This of course was with the presence of half a dozen of high class demons. They all managed to gank the asses of those black eyed sons of bitches, but at the cost of losing about eighty-five percent of Bobby's library, and now living life on the run…

"So what do you think?" Sam asked, clenching his jaw as he waited for Bobby's response. "What'd ya mean 'what do I think'?" Bobby asked in annoyed disbelief. "Sam, I love you and your brother as if ya where my own! I ain't researchin ways to kill Dean, we're stickin with the plan. Now why don't we try and figure out what's next, instead of ringgin our hands over what happened?" Bobby took a swig from his flask.

"Yeah, alright. You're right, Bobby," Sam sat back down and opened up his laptop. After a few minutes of shifting through news articles on the web Sam spoke up. "Hey, um, this is weird," he said without taking his eyes of the screen, "Un explained disappearances in Portland…"

"People disappear everyday Sam."

"Yeah, but not on this massive of a scale," Sam turned the laptop around to face Bobby who looked up from his books and read, Sam continued, "It says over fifteen people from different areas around Portland at different times throughout the day just.." he shrugged his shoulders. "They just disappeared, never showed back up from break at work or never picked their kids up from school. Just gone.."

"you think.."

"Lucifer? Yeah. Who else?"

"Okay say it is Sam-"

"Of course it is!" Sam was starting to shake his head, he couldn't believe Bobby wouldn't side with him on this, it was obvious. Bobby crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, waiting in silence.

"What?!" Sam demanded.

"You finished princess? 'Cause if you just listened for one Damn minute you'd realize I wasn't trying to argue with you, ya idget."

"Hilarious." Sam responded, in his sardonic one word banter he'd always enter once he realized he was being a dramatic.

"Now listen Sam," Sam turned his attention back to Bobby and crossed his arms, pursing his lips and frowning to one side slightly, ready for a lecture. Bobby rolled his eyes but continued, "Say it is ol' Lucy as the front man with all his backup singers. What are we going to do exactly? Run in guns blazing with who? Five hunters and a round of rock salt shells and a few sawed off shot guns?! With a flick of his hand he could send any one of us flying out a window. Hell for all we know he could snap his damn fingers and make us all spontaneously combust!" Bobby had started yelling halfway through his monologue. Sam had stood up and was leaning across the table, he responded as soon as Bobby went to take a breath. "So you acknowledge that I'm right about this, but you what? Just want to sit back and do nothing?! Bobby, aside from the fact that the world is about to go up in flames at any moment – what about dean!?"

That was the big question. If any other question was ever brought up at this moment, none would have been as important as the one Sam just asked. Because that's why they were all together. Sam, Bobby, Rufus, Jo and Ellen, they were all joined by a common drive a sort of morose passion, or as a memorial service for all they knew…

"What about Dean, Bobby?" Bobby didn't have a response he just sort of stared at Sam like he'd just been punched in the face. Sam looked like he was about to either kill someone or start crying.

"Sam," Bobby closed his eyes for a moment – trying to organize his next few words carefully. "Dean is why we're all here, I mean we all might have accepted the world will end. But at least we can try and get Dean back before it does…But what I'm getting at is this-" Rufus stepped back into the motel room just as Bobby was getting to his point.

"I interrupt something?" He asked, eyebrows raised and a Coffee in his hand, apparently he'd forgone the alcohol for some jet fuel instead. "Actually you arrived right on time."

Rufus took that as his queue to sit and he did, taking an empty chair. He sipped his coffee and watched Bobby, patiently. "Say Lucifer is in Portland-"

"Lucifer's in Portland?" Rufus interjected. "I'll update you on that later" Bobby responded quickly, trying to get back to his train of thought.

"That aside, we're all on the run. We haven't seen Jo and Ellen in a few days 'cause they got demons on their tails and can't come back here till they gank 'em. Rufus got coffee from the damn motel reservation desk again, which tastes like shit." Bobby added, and Rufus nodded in agreement as he took another sip and let a cringe of distaste flicker across his face as if he was drinking whiskey.

"Why are they after us? I mean, yeah kill Dean's friends and family to torture him. But track us? It's a bit-"

"Strange.." Sam finished.

"Portland too, it's too obvious. It's like the bastard wants us to know where he is."

"He wants us to come to him."

"So we're saying trap?" Rufus added.

Bobby nodded his head, Sam looked back at him and waited for his next words, "Yeah, and we're not going to fall for it. Because I figure if we're important enough to track, then we must be one damn big of a threat to still be on his radar."

"But then that means-" Sam started, he stood up and began to pace, and ran his hands through his long hair. He was smiling, the first legitimate one since before Dean was Lucifer-Dean. Rufus just chuckled and said to himself, "Damn."

Bobby pulled out his cellphone, clicking through his address book he found Ellen's number and gave her a ring. "Yeah, mission control is in for a move and I got an idea on how to throw those black eyed sons of bitches off your tail.."

Bobby had walked over to the bed on the other side of the room and began to walk Ellen through his plan. Sam finally sat back down and relaxed a bit into his seat. Rufus continued to sip that god awful coffee.

"First break through in.."

"Forever," Sam finished.

"So you know what this all means.."

Sam laughed, and looked at Rufus. He was looking at Rufus but he was thinking of Dean, of all those times he and Dean had shared these case breaking moments and the car rides after where seventies rock music blaring was the calm silence, the comfort that would lull one or the other to sleep in the passenger seat. Sam pulled Dean's necklace out of his jacket pocket and rolled it around between his fingers, smiling.

"Yeah, it means we're going to win."


End file.
